


by the tick of the clock

by BlasphemyBee



Category: Original Work
Genre: Extremely Dubious Consent, F/M, Incest, OCs - Freeform, Original Character(s), Parent/Child Incest, Pedophilia, Rape/Non-con Elements, Religion, christian dads being not very christian!, crying in the shower!, it has it all folks!, no beta we die like men
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-09
Updated: 2019-08-09
Packaged: 2020-08-13 14:27:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 643
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20175781
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BlasphemyBee/pseuds/BlasphemyBee
Summary: “You look obscene,” he whispers, Kathy’s soft cheeks being grasped tight in between his fingers that are slick with her own wetness. She knows he’s right.





	by the tick of the clock

Every little tick of her clock, each one synonymous with one fleeting second flies through her head. Her mind is a broken record of counting the seconds, minutes, the _noises_ and their volume, how they shake and go instinctively deeper the closer they are to her ear. Katherine tries to count the patterns on her quilt as it lay untouched and spread neatly on her mattress. At the very _least,_ she could be holding that blanket tight in her arms. Burying her mouth in it rather than biting her lip until she can taste copper flow over her tongue and down her sore, abused throat. Her half lidded eyes fall to the wallpaper and she tries to count the pale coloured flowers littered across it, but her eyes fall shut, brows tightening against her forehead as her dad sinks in deeper and she's hanging her head between her shoulders. Her stomach coils and bile drags itself up her throat, burning the inside and making fresh hot tears well up in her eyes at the drawn out _“Ah..”_ that escapes her.

He holds himself in place there, fingers digging harder into her hips, but not hard enough to leave bruises. Never hard enough to leave bruises. Kathy can inspect her bare body in the mirror, looking for any signs, any _proof_ that he’s doing this to her, and can never find any. She almost wants to misbehave enough that he leaves something there for her to defend herself with.

Another sound passes her swollen lips, something between a muffled sob and a feeling she doesn’t want, but she just can’t help as he grinds into _just the right spot,_ then continues the pace he’d held before. Her petite body jerks forward with each thrust and when she’s pushed forward, no other movement following, she freely lets herself cry. She’s dropped back down and forced onto her knees, trying so fucking hard to ignore the feeling of something thick and warm leaking out of her.

_“You look obscene,”_ he whispers, Kathy’s soft cheeks being grasped tight in between his fingers that are slick with her own wetness. She knows he’s right. Cum and spit is smeared across her lips, cheeks tear stained and eyes rimmed with a redness that isn’t visible in the moonlight’s dim rays through her translucent curtains. A whine bubbles up in her throat. It’s raspy and barely audible but an inkling of hope rises in her. She wants her mom to hear. _Fuck,_ if it isn’t humiliating. She’s sitting in the middle of her hardwood floor, thighs trembling as the result of her father’s release slides out of her and down her clammy skin. Her eyes screw shut and she waits, listening for the telltale sound of his footsteps turning faint, the door creaking then shutting with a small click, and she’s finally alone again.

If there’s even a chance her mom will ever hear. If she finds out, Katherine can be saved from this. Saved from long, mortifying nights of her father’s disgusting seed filling her to the brim, followed by the 2 hour long shower she spends scrubbing her skin until its red and stings. Scrubbing away the tingling feeling still sweeping over her overstimulated body and trying hard to feel clean of Abram’s invasive hands and fingers.

She even stays as the water turns frigid. Lets it run over her raw flesh and send chills through her already quivering body, cutting deep into her bones until she can’t take it. _She can’t fucking take it, she can’t take it, she **can’t.**_ And so she sinks to her knees. Her arms are wrapped tight around her chest as she watches the tears and semen still clinging to her skin spiral down the shower drain. Removing all evidence, and any hope she can be saved from this cruel god-forsaken routine.


End file.
